


I'll Bleed For You

by naanie



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Nosebleed, Sexual Tension, spit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naanie/pseuds/naanie
Summary: Will gets a nosebleed at Hannibal's house and Hannibal helps, in a horny way, and then they are horny together. The working title for this was The Erotic Nosebleed. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.I know this is the Hannibal fandom but I still feel obligated to say if you think you may be grossed out by reading about an erotic nosebleed, please don’t read this, I won’t mind. If, however, you happened to enjoy it, please let me know so we can be weird together.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	I'll Bleed For You

“Cheers,” Will says to Hannibal, before lifting a glass of red wine to his lips and taking a sip. They are standing in Hannibal’s kitchen, having an early drink while Hannibal finishes preparing a mouth-watering dinner for two. As Will sets his glass down on the counter, he feels a warm trickle start to form in one of his nostrils; it’s a familiar feeling, though one he hasn’t experienced in several years. Before he is able to help it, a drop of blood falls onto Hannibal’s counter.

Will quickly stumbles back into the counter and cabinets behind him and tilts his head back while pinching the bridge of his nose. “Han - Hannibal, I’m sorry, I -”

-

Hannibal turns away from the stove and zeroes in on the new drop of glistening red blood, one that hadn’t come from anything he had prepared himself. He quickly looks at Will, who is looking at the ceiling and holding one hand under his pinched nose, trying to keep more blood from falling on Hannibal’s kitchen surfaces. Hannibal watches intently as another drop of blood trickles out of Will’s nose, and his eyes flare slightly when he sees Will’s pink tongue dart out and lick it away. Seeing the bob of Will’s throat as he swallows leaves Hannibal somewhat breathless, and at that moment, Hannibal wants nothing more than to be Will’s tongue, drinking himself. 

Hannibal minutely shakes himself out of his reverie and turns off the stove, then swiftly removes a fresh handkerchief from his pocket as he approaches. He gently removes Will’s hand from his nose before replacing it with the handkerchief, folded so it doesn’t hang over his face, and tilts his head slightly forward. He ensures Will is applying pressure where he needs to, then he prepares a wet washcloth and gently cleans Will’s bloody hand. 

“Thanks,” Will says, still avoiding eye contact, though they are now mere inches apart. “Haven’t gotten one of these in a long time; I used to get them pretty often. This one came out of nowhere, I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright,” Hannibal responds gently. He refrains from telling Will he would be delighted to see Will bleed all over his house, as he thinks this is not the appropriate time. 

“Could I, um, get some water? To get that taste out of my mouth,” Will asks.

“Of course.”

Hannibal regretfully breaks apart from him (though why Will would not opt to savor what is surely a delectable flavor is beyond him), and prepares a glass of water, then brings it back and, in a moment of some indulgence, brings it to Will’s lips to assist him in sipping from it. He knows one of Will’s hands is unoccupied and that the man could likely do it himself, but he also knows he wants to see Will’s Adam's apple bob up and down up close, and that, as with everything else, when it comes to Will, Hannibal can’t resist. 

-

“Um, thanks,” Will says shyly after Hannibal takes the glass away. He glances at Hannibal as he flicks his tongue over his upper lip to try and clean off some of the already-drying blood, then notes the way Hannibal darts his tongue out to lick his own, almost instinctually. He looks at Hannibal’s eyes, and sees the man’s pupils have flared and his irises are almost glowing. Interesting.

He tries to tap into Hannibal’s mind, as much as he is able to, and is at first a little surprised at the desire he feels begin to roll off of the doctor, though he realizes he shouldn’t be. This is new territory for him, and could be fun.

He clears his throat. “What, uh, is the preferred treatment method for nosebleeds, Doctor?”

He sees Hannibal every so slightly smirk at his use of the term before he replies, “Keeping one’s head tilted slightly forward while applying pressure below the bridge of the nose is the standard treatment. Tilting one’s head back is out of date and is not recommended.” 

Will nods and swallows, and notices Hannibal’s eyes flare a little more at the action, and he feels the desire the doctor is feeling ever increase. “I see. And, uh, do you -” he breaks off. He doesn’t have much practice using this sort of influence. He tries to keep as innocent and straight a face as he can. “Do you have a preferred method yourself?” 

-

Hannibal considers Will as he ponders how to answer - he is looking particularly guileless at the moment, though Hannibal notes a quickening of the other man’s heart beat, manifesting itself in shallow breaths. He tries to break beneath whatever cover Will is putting on as they maintain eye contact, but subtly frowns when he finds he cannot, not very easily. Curiosity over the potential outcome wins out in the end (in his quick consideration of the odds, the pros of a success would vastly outweigh the cons), so he decides to be somewhat bold. 

“Typically, no, I do not. The recommended treatment usually suffices.” 

“Oh.” Will looks away, seeming a little disappointed. Hannibal smiles to himself. 

“However….”

At that Will looks up, almost hopeful.

“If you’ll permit me to try something rather...unorthodox.” 

Hannibal sees Will’s own pupils flare a little as he says, low and a little breathless, “Please do.”

They look at each other for a few moments and wordlessly exchange permission. Hannibal nods. “Follow me.”

Hannibal leads him to the living room sofa and sits him down at one end. Hannibal sits on the arm of the sofa next to him and leans over to get better access to him. He removes the handkerchief Will had been holding, then takes the man’s face gently in his hands, closes his eyes, and can’t help himself from scenting Will’s blood up close, just inches away. Hannibal has had a taste for blood ever since he was a boy, but Will’s already smells sweeter and stronger than anyone else’s. His mouth waters in anticipation. 

-

Will is enraptured as he watches the effect the blood coming unbidden from his nose has on the doctor. He realizes now that he can’t blame the desire slowly blooming in his belly entirely on what he’s picking up from Hannibal. 

His voice wavers a little as he decides to go for it. “You look as though you’ve waited a long time for this.” 

“I have,” Hannibal agrees, in a low rumble. He is still in control, but only just. Will can tell and he relishes it. 

Hannibal still seems to hesitate, so Will encourages him. “Do it,” he whispers. They’re so close, he can feel Hannibal barely restrain a shudder that runs through his body.

-

“Very well,” Hannibal whispers back. Hannibal slowly leans in, almost as though he’s going to kiss Will, all the while touching Will’s face, and savoring his natural scent mixed with the aroma of his blood. It is Hannibal’s favorite perfume, he decides. He flicks out his tongue to catch a drop of blood that is about to fall onto Will’s shirt. He then goes in to gently lick the red trail forming from his nostrils to his upper lip, running down his cupid’s bow. He swallows the salty, metallic liquid hungrily. It is better than any blood, human or otherwise, he’s ever tasted. And Will didn’t even need to be injured for him to consume it. 

He licks another drop of blood about to fall, and laps gently at his nose like a kitten would a dish of milk. He feels Will shiver at the sensation. 

“You might - you might,” Will interrupts. Hannibal stops. “You might be, uh, more comfortable, uh - more comfortable in my, uh, lap,” he says awkwardly. 

Hannibal raises an eyebrow. “Would I?” He can’t help himself.

Will swallows again and nods. 

Hannibal fixes him with a stare. “How would you like me?”

Hannibal couldn’t see it clearly before, but there’s no doubt now after asking this question - he can feel the desire coming off of Will in waves. He is pleased they are similarly affected. He had hoped, but couldn’t have been sure. 

-

Will can’t help trembling at the question. Surely that was intentional. Will finds he doesn’t mind.

He has enough restraint not to say the first answer that comes to mind, but still, he is so nervous and turned on, he has difficulty getting the right words out. “I was thinking you could - could, uh, straddle me, on the couch.” 

He hears Hannibal take a sharp intake of breath at the word “straddle,” and Will is pleased with himself for choosing it, knowing the effect it would have on the man. He’s discovering that manipulating each other didn’t always have to be damaging; it could even work to their mutual benefit sometimes. 

Hannibal pauses, but quickly recovers and says seriously, “That would be better for my back, yes.” Will just rolls his eyes then moves over a little and leans back to give him more room. Hannibal stands in front of him and removes his jacket, then hesitantly puts one of his bent legs on one side of Will’s lap, then the other, and gently places his hands on Will’s shoulders. 

-

Hannibal admits he hadn’t foreseen this particular outcome - this position specifically - though he is not displeased as he slowly sinks down onto Will’s lap. They each exhale roughly when their laps make contact with each other. Hannibal is half hard, and he can feel that Will is in a similar state. 

Hannibal takes Will’s face gently in his hands and tilts him backward slightly. He looks at Will longingly, wanting to memorize the way his curls lay wild and soft, the lust and adoration flaring in his eyes, the way he licks his lips in anticipation. 

Another drop of blood starts to fall, and Hannibal leans and licks it away. 

“You taste very good, Will,” he says, before closing the gap and finally lowering his lips to Will’s, and they share Will’s blood together.

-

Will realizes at that moment that he had subconsciously been wondering what Hannibal’s lips would feel like since that morning in the motel, when he had been watching the doctor suspiciously, with his homemade breakfast for two. He had been studying the other man’s face and gotten hung up on the curve of his lips, had found himself daydreaming how they’d feel on various parts of himself. Not that he’d ever admitted it to himself, not until now.

As soon as Hannibal kisses him, Will knows he never could have imagined it, not completely: the softness, the strength, and the assuredness, combined with a bit of restraint, is so uniquely Hannibal. Will wonders how much Hannibal is holding back, and what it might take for him to reveal everything. Will wants to feel it all.

He gently grasps Hannibal’s shoulders and brings their torsos together as he returns Hannibal’s kiss in kind. His mind is full of softness, warmth, and pleasure, and then he parts his lips and sweeps his tongue out to hesitantly lick the crease between Hannibal’s perfect mouth. He hears and feels Hannibal moan as his lips open, and their tongues begin to move together. His own blood mixes with Hannibal’s saliva, and he savors the way it tastes.

Their kisses get stronger; Hannibal clutches Will’s face and Will slides his hands slowly up and down Hannibal’s broad, muscular back. Hannibal gently bites Will’s luscious lower lip then sucks on it, causing Will to whimper and buck his groin up against Hannibal’s, and shudder as their matching erections make delicious contact, even through layers of fabric. 

Will lowers his hands and grabs Hannibal’s ass to pull the man even closer into him and thrusts, seeking relief for his aching hardness. Hannibal gasps into his mouth and starts grinding back, and any restraint he may still have had vanishes as he runs his hands through Will’s hair and suckles on his lower lip. 

They move together rhythmically in ever increasing intensity, grasping at each other’s bodies and attacking each other’s mouths. They reach a fever pitch and Will pulls away, gasping. “It’s not - it’s not enough. I need - I need…” He starts rubbing reflexively at Hannibal’s hard cock, straining against his trousers. 

Hannibal, his voice rough with arousal, says, “I know, Will, I know what you need.” He hurriedly undoes Will’s zipper and removes Will’s cock, leaking with fluid, then frees his own.

“Hold out your hand,” Will demands. 

Hannibal, intrigued by the suggestion and the man’s tone, does as he is told, and nearly flinches when he feels Will spit into it. He looks at him questioningly.

Will looks wild, and very pleased with himself. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, doctor. Besides...the kitchen is too far away.” 

Hannibal grins. His Will continues to surprise him. “I can’t disagree.” Hannibal adds his own spit to the mix, then takes their lengths together and rubs their combined slick up and down their straining shafts.

At first contact, Will shudders and gasps. “Hannibal,” he cries, and reaches for him to claim his lips again. Hannibal keeps a firm grip and a steady pace on their joined cocks, and moans as he entwines their tongues together. Together they are hard and slippery and pulsating with pleasure, and for the moment are transformed into one hedonistic, blood-hungry god. 

Hannibal picks up the pace and licks above Will’s lips, desperate to taste more of Will’s blood; when he gets a hit of the viscous, salty liquid, he goes into a frenzy, and his strokes begin to spiral out of control. 

Will reaches into Hannibal’s trousers and grabs his ass harder, wanting to leave bruises, then takes Hannibal’s lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it and loving the yelps he makes. The man who is so often uptight and reserved is close to losing control, and Will loves that he made him this way. He knows they’re both close; he bites down harder on Hannibal’s lip, hard enough to draw blood, and he feels Hannibal tremble and grunt as he comes first. 

Hannibal whites out for a few seconds after his intense orgasm, then manages to come to and continue jerking Will off, using some of his own warm release to make his hand even slicker. He feels Will thrust shamelessly into his hand, then leans down to claim his neck, bared so beautifully and as yet unmarked. He sucks greedily, and grazes his teeth along Will’s throat. Will lets out a sob and thrusts wildly, and Hannibal bites hard enough to draw blood. As soon as he does, Will seizes and lets out a high-pitched gasp before coming all over Hannibal’s waistcoat.

Will leans his head back against the couch, and lets Hannibal lick away the blood coming to the surface of Will’s new wound. Hannibal feels truly lucky to have tasted blood from two different parts of Will’s body in one day. He eventually stops and just clings to Will’s side and almost purrs when Will reaches up to stroke Hannibal’s hair, now fallen across his face. Their audible breaths are all they can hear. 

“I’m sorry about your waistcoat.” 

Hannibal looks down at the white fluid sprayed across it. “I am not. But I’m afraid I don’t have a second handkerchief available,” he says with a grin. Will smiles shyly. 

“I think...my nosebleed is gone.”

“The treatment worked then.” 

“You look especially pleased with yourself.” 

Hannibal hummed against Will’s throat. “It’s not often that a treatment satisfies both the patient and the physician in equal measure.”

“And you are...satisfied?”

“Very much so.” 

Will knows they can’t lay like this forever, but he hangs on for every last second, even as the blood, come, and spit cool and start to dry down. He looks down at them and laughs. 

“God, look at us.”

“I am. Studying it for later.” 

Will groans. “You’re going to draw this, aren’t you?”

“Of course. I will cherish it regularly and often.”

Will gets embarrassed and feels blood rush to his face, though how he wasn’t embarrassed until now is beyond him. 

Will sighs. “I suppose we should clean up.” Something dawns on him. “Oh no, Hannibal, what about the food? I forgot all about it.”

Hannibal ponders. “Hmm, it slipped my mind also. After I get changed, I will survey the fallout and salvage something, I’m sure. Please, feel free to make use of my facilities.”

Will nods, and Hannibal gets up, then holds his hand out to Will. They look at each other’s wounds and smile. “What a sight we are,” Will says with a happy sigh. “I can’t say I’ve been this debauched in quite a long time, maybe ever.” 

“A pity. That is something I would be happy to help you rectify.” 

Will blushes again and clears his throat. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just...clean up,” he says as he walks backward to the guest bathroom. 

“Take all the time you need.” 

After he leaves the room, Hannibal picks up the bloodied handkerchief from the floor and wipes some of Will’s come on his waistcoat with it, then takes it with him upstairs to his bedroom. He looks at it fondly, then places it in the drawer of his bedside table. He is already looking forward to smelling it later.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was just going to be them dry-humping but then I was writing it and they demanded a mutual hand job, and who am I to deny them.


End file.
